Shifting Sands
by CraftyLion
Summary: Fragmented sequel of Hasina; Bakura has his queen, and now all that's left to do is go on continuous adventures. Side quest: saving their son Rating set mostly for language; may go up, depending on future chapters
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: Here it is! The second installment of Hasina! The stories before the sequel. The events that went on after Hasina became the official Queen of Thieves. The … well, you get the point.  
**

******Thank you RedShadowThief for 1) letting me borrow your writing style and 2) letting me borrow your title. You're just giving me so much stuff. I feel like a charity case. … Will you give me money next? Oh please say yes. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bakura, nor do I own Atem. I also do not own the name Akefia. I pretty much own the character himself though.**

* * *

_A baby's cry filled the air of the chamber. The yelling and shouting from beyond the walls were almost drowned out. The queen's voice could be heard giving orders to her soldiers. _

_In the princely rooms, Samiya held the babe to her breast, pacing the room. _

"_Hush child," she whispered into his ear. "Hush now. There's no need to cry. You're safe. Shhh." She patted his back, kissed his forehead, rocked him back and forth. Nothing worked to quiet him. If anything, he cried louder. _

_Behind her, the door opened. Samiya turned to see another servant step in. _

"_Nefertari, what is happening?" _

"_It's the thief king. He's back again." _

"_What fool would think he'd actually leave the palace alone? We have his son after all." _

"_But no one thought he'd return so soon. It's only been a few nights since the last time." _

"_We have his son," Samiya repeated. "Perhaps, in his haste to get him back, he hasn't thought out his plans properly. Parents will go to great lengths to save their children." _

"_I guess. But it doesn't seem like him. He tried to get in by the front gate once more. He had more people this time, but not nearly enough to get past the guards. Shouldn't he know that by now?" _

"_One would think." Samiya had to agree with Nefertari. As a thief, she would have expected him to sneak in a secret entrance on the side of the palace, or in the back. She thought it odd that he would make his presence so obvious. Even if he hadn't said it yet, it was clear that he was returning to get the child he left behind, Akefia. And yet, he had been back twice since he left with Hasina, and he never made it past the second wave of guards near the front of the palace. _

_Nefertari's voice brought Samiya back to the room. "He's leaving now, him and his men," she was saying. "That's why it's not so loud anymore. But I heard Her Majesty before I left. She said she was going to be waiting for him next time. He better not come again." _

_Samiya frowned. "He will," she predicted._

* * *

Merit walked up the steps with two cups of tea in hand, one for herself, and one for her sister.

_Sister in law, _she corrected herself. _She's only your sister through marriage. Through Bakura's marriage. _The woman allowed herself a chuckle. She had never thought to find her little brother married. But then again, she had never thought to see him again. Merit wondered what her mother might think.

_That's four children married. Now all she has left are Imouthes and Imhotep._

Merit wished she could see her siblings again. It wasn't that she minded being with Bakura and Paru and their company – she loved it, truly! But sometimes when she closed her eyes at night, she could see the twins' faces. After Bakura, she had always loved those two the most. They had a childish air about them, even as they got older. And they never hated their other brother, not really. Sure, they shunned him like the rest did, but only because they were told to. Merit remembered once when they had come to her and asked exactly why everyone seemed to dislike Bakura.

"_He came from mother and father, just like us, even though he looks different." _

"_Everyone says he's a demon, my brothers." _

"_A thing can only be a demon if you raise it to be one. Isn't that what you always say, Merit? I bet he'd be fun if everyone just liked him more." _

She smiled at the memory. She had decided, that day, that Imhotep and Imouthes were two of the best people in the village.

Merit walked through the doorway of the room with careful steps, watching out for the one cracked stone. No sense in getting all the way up the stairs to just spill tea all over the place. When she looked up, she found Hasina sitting by the window.

Her dark hair flowed down her back, like some black waterfall. The candlelight touched it, causing it to glint and glow. Her hands were on her lap, clasped together so tight that they turned white. The fringe of her hair covered the side of her face, but from her angle, Merit could see her lips pressed together, and her nose wrinkled. She was sitting up so straight and still that she could have been dead and merely held up by a post along her back.

"I brought you some tea to calm your nerves."

"Don't need it."

The woman laughed. "When was the last time you slept? _Properly _slept? One blast of a horn could have you topple over and shatter into a million pieces. That is, if you don't do it yourself first." Merit put the cups on the windowsill and rested her own hand on top of Hasina's. "My dear queen, you're going to cut off the circulation to your fingers if you hold your hands so tight."

Under her touch, Hasina loosened her grip slightly. "You don't have to call me that, you know. They called me that at the palace once, and the boys say it here. I even get it from Bakura. It'd be nice to hear something else."

"Would you rather I call you 'sweet sister'?"

The girl turned her head slowly, looking at Merit for the first time. Something that might have been a smile started to creep across her face but, before it could fully form, she frowned and turned away. The title 'sister' only served to bring along sad memories. It reminded her of her wedding to Atem and the first time he had called her "Sister." It made her think of her younger siblings, who had looked up to her and called her their beloved sister, their kind sister, their favorite sister. Now they thought she was dead and could not call her those things in person anymore. The thought made her want to run to them and shout, "I'm not dead! I'm very much alive, I promise!" But that wasn't possible, of course.

"Hasina is fine," she said, finally.

Merit nodded, seeming to understand. "Drink," she commanded.

Hasina took one of the cups from the windowsill obediently and took a sip of the steaming liquid. The heat burned her mouth, but she tried to ignore it and focused on the sweet flavor.

"I wasn't sure how much sugarcane to add," Merit admitted, sheepishly. "I always like my tea very sweet and I thought you might too. I hope it's alright for you."

The corners of Hasina's mouth twitched. "It's delicious, thank you." She turned back to the window and stared into the wide desert expanse again.

Merit took the other cup and drank while watching her. The past couple months had altered her. The fine, transparent gowns she had worn as the queen of Egypt turned into the shorter, more solid dresses of the queen of thieves. She had exchanged her hairnets and headdresses for a thin ribbon of cloth to keep her hair off her face. Her leather shoes were traded in for papyrus sandals, and she hardly ever even wore those. Merit noted that the only thing that had stayed the same was the jewelry, and she only wore the pieces that Bakura had given her.

"Bakura should be returning soon," Merit said, breaking the silence.

Hasina blinked and looked at her hands. "I keep wishing he'd ride back with Akefia in front of him."

Merit winced at the pained tone. "He won't tonight, you know that. But if everything goes according to his plan, gods willing, he will one day. One day soon.

"I want him to just do it now and get it over with," Hasina whimpered.

"But that would be reckless. Something like this is going to take time, obviously. Akefia isn't like some statue in the temple; Ata will protect that child with her life."

When Hasina gave her a skeptical look, Merit corrected herself. "Sorry. She'll protect him with her _guards'_ lives."

"I just wish Bakura would be more careful. The more times he goes there, the greater the risk that Ata or Atem will catch him. They're not as stupid as he thinks they are."

Merit raised an eyebrow over the rim of her cup. "Is that … concern I hear in your voice? Are you _worried_ about my brother, Hasina?"

In response, the queen bit her bottom lip and furrowed her eyebrows.

"You really care for his well being again, don't you?" Merit continued. "Have you forgiven him?"

"No! I haven't forgiven him. I _won't_ forgive him, I don't care what his reasons were. And I'm not worried about him. I just … I can't be expected to be the queen of thieves alone, can I? No one would listen to me. He has to stay alive so he can … you know, keep me, uh … protected." Hasina ended her comment as if she were asking a question. Merit hid a grin behind her hand.

"Of course, my queen, that's clearly the reason for your concern. How silly of me."

The two girls stared at each other, Hasina glaring, and Merit with thinly veiled amusement in her eyes.

"Do me a favor and shut up."

Merit stood up and rested a hand on her shoulder. "I'll leave you to your thoughts. But I promise you, no matter what your reasons for wanting Bakura to come back alive, he will. It's not in his nature to die easily."

When Merit's footsteps had disappeared, Hasina allowed her face to relax a little. A faint smile passed over her lips as she realized, no, Bakura did not like to sit down and die. He would return, she was sure.

* * *

**A/N: Right! So, here's the first fragment. Uh … I hope you like it … ((hopeful look)) I'll admit, I didn't put as much effort into this as I probably should have, but I think it turned out okay anyway.  
I deeply apologize for not getting this up sooner. I actually had it written out a long time ago (and by that, I mean a couple days after I finished _Hasina_.) My friend hasn't had the time to beta it until just recently and I haven't had the time to upload it. But now that it is uploaded, you all forgive me ... right?  
Just as a side not ... chapter two will probably take longer. ;)  
**

**Reviews are appreciated!  
**


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note: Chapter two – it's very short. That is, if you're using Times New Roman, size 12. But nobody ever uses that anymore, do they? They all have the awesome fonts with big sizes! You'd better. I mean, it'll look longer that way ;)**

**Thank you much to Dakota Ishtar, Lita of the Dancing Flame and RedShadowThief. Your reviews make me as happy as a pig in goop. Certainly, I can't forget to thank my beta, who makes my writing seem more legit! :)**

**Disclaimer: I own … everything in this chapter. Bakura and Atem are mentioned. I don't own them.**

* * *

Ata sat by the window, loving the feeling of the cool evening breeze in her face. She looked down at the babe on her lap. His hair, what little tufts he had, was as white as her dress and almost as transparent. His eyes, currently wide and staring at her, were as blue as a mid-afternoon sky. She hated the child for who he was: Hasina's baby. But she loved him for what he was - a baby.

Ata had always loved babies. She remembered, when she was a child herself, she had always begged the servants to let her help them take care of her siblings. She had brushed the girls' hair and pinned down her brothers so a maid could slip on their clothes. Their laughs would bounce off the walls as she tickled them.

The woman smiled at the memories. Father had always said she was good with children and she would make a good mother.

The corners of Ata's mouth curled down and a wave of sadness passed over her. If the situation stayed the way it was, she would never have a baby of her own. Not really.

She gave the boy a pat on the back as he started to whimper.

She'd thought that the marriage to Atem had been perfect. It meant that she would be queen of Egypt and she would have power. On top of that, she would have been known as the mother of the future pharaoh when she was recorded in the history books.

The realization of Atem's state had shattered everything. She would never be the mother of the next pharaoh, or a mother at all. At least, she'd never have a child that would be recognized as legitimate.

More than once, Ata had considered finding a way to get rid of Atem and putting another one of her unmarried brothers on the throne. One who she could easily bend to her will. Marrying another brother would ensure that the royal line remained as strong as it was, and she would still get her desire for a baby.

Of course, once the thought finished, she always begged the gods' forgiveness for her wicked ideas. Of course she liked her power and enjoyed making events work in her favor, but she could never go as far as to murder family.

The baby clawed at her dress and cried. Ata watched him struggle to pull down the top of her dress for a moment before standing and handing him to his maid. She gave him a light kiss on the head.

"I'll treat you like you were my own son," she whispered. As the servant walked away to feed him, she added, "Until I get one of my own."

Ata never failed to see Atem's face whenever he saw the boy. He despised the idea of keeping something of Bakura's. Certainly he didn't want the thief's son to succeed him. Perhaps Ata could use this to her advantage. After all, if they could pretend the child of Hasina and Bakura was their true son, why couldn't they do the same for a child born from Ata and some other man? It would be different, because Atem would consent to it. He would have too. She would make him.

* * *

**A/N: Da-na! I told you it was short. I hoped you liked the little insight into Ata's mind though. I've made her out to be a bitch. I feel bad. So I made it look like she had some kind of human feeling. She's still a bitch.**

**Thank you for reading! Leave me a review and tell me what you thought!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: Yes, another chapter! I'm on a roll here! Thank you to the lovely girl who is known here as "My Beta." She is a wonderful person. Thank her. Or thank me and I'll pass it on.**

Also, Lita of the Dancing Flame and xrinettex – your reviews were much appreciated!

This chapter is being updated as a profuse thanks to RedShadowThief's recent updates. Mine don't even compare.

Disclaimer: I own not Bakura. I own not Egypt. I own ... Paru!

* * *

As the man watched his friend stare out into the dark Egyptian night, a sudden realization of their positions came to him, sending a shiver along his spine.

Gods, they were married. They were _fathers. _They were sitting here, perfecting a plan to get back Bakura's son. Bakura had a boy, just like him. Even though Paru's son had been born a while ago, the thought still didn't completely compute in his mind.

Paru wondered vaguely what his mother would say if she were here. Probably something along the lines of,

"_I don't know how you did it, but you'd better not screw this up." _

She'd have said it with that teasing smile he loved. It was a smile that told him that she was making fun of him, but she also meant what she said.

Half of him wished that she were here to see him. She never believed that he would ever settle down with a girl. He could prove her wrong!

The other half knew that, if she were alive, he wouldn't have ever met Merit in the first place. In fact, he'd never have seen Bakura and they wouldn't be closer than brothers now.

He gave his companion a light shove. Bakura came out of his stupor slowly. He focused one crimson eye and raised an eyebrow in question.

"What is this?" Paru asked, waving an arm at the scene around them.

The sun was just dipping below the horizon, covering the land in a purple haze. On the other side, the half-moon crawled slowly into the sky, to take its counterpart's place. It shed a much softer light. The two colors battled with each other – half the sands were purple, the other half silver. Two rocks weighed down a piece of parchment at opposite corners. It was important. It was covered in lines and dots, and arrows – their rescue plan. Bakura was seated cross-legged in front of it and the other man to the side.

"What happened to the guys who touched every girl in every town and didn't give a fuck about anyone?" he demanded.

"They got wives. Kids." Bakura pointed to the pinned down papyrus. "Something to do in their spare time."

"What, whoring and thieving aren't good enough past times for you anymore?"

Bakura pierced him with his fear-me eyes. Paru suddenly felt very much like a mouse under the watchful gaze of a hungry cat. A hungry cat that was scheming a way to get him out of his safe hidey-hole.

"Don't you love my sister, Paru?"

The bald man licked his lips. "I do," he said, weighing his words. "Not just 'cause she's your sister, but 'cause she's beautiful and kind. Everything a man could want in a wife. I couldn't love a woman more." They sounded pathetic when said aloud, but they were far from empty statements.

Bakura had been temperamental lately. He'd become very protective of the two women and shot down anyone who said anything remotely negative about them. Paru couldn't even complain about the fuss Merit made over him anymore, for fear of losing a hand. Or an arm. Or a head. Him, Paru, who had never had to worry about anything other than a playful, albeit rough, shove against a wall.

Luckily, Bakura knew him well enough to know that he meant what he said. Paru let out a small, relieved sigh when the thief king turned his sights back towards the quickly darkening desert.

"Good," he growled. "Because if you didn't, I'd have to tear your throat out."

If the king had been a beast, Paru could imagine him flexing his claws now.

They fell into silence again, each with their own thoughts. Soon, the sun disappeared and the purple light lost its battle. Silver now ruled the world.

The moon was almost at its zenith when the other voice called him. They had been silent for so long that Paru actually yelped.

Bakura smirked. "It's just me. No need to scream like a little girl."

Paru said something very un-girly under his breath and glared. "You just … surprised me."

"Did you think I was just going to sit here and say nothing forever?"

"What do you want?"

Bakura changed his position so that they were looking each other head on. The smile had run from his face, leaving him looking years older than he should have.

"Paru," the king of thieves started.

Paru didn't like the way he said it. He sounded almost … reluctant. "Yes?" he answered cautiously.

"You're the closest thing I have to a friend."

"'Preciate that."

"I've known you the longest and I can trust you. You've done nothing but good things for me."

The man shook his bald head resignedly. "I get it. I've known you longest and you've trusted me with a lot. But you've got to kill me now because I know too much and you can't risk the possibility that I might turn on you and kill you. Or your wife. Or, gods forbid, I spread rumors about that and turn your _thieves_ against you. The fears of a king. I completely understand. That's why you brought me out here tonight, isn't it? We're alone, so no one will see anything. It's better that way. Just … tell Merit that I really did love her."

"Don't tempt me, idiot," Bakura growled.

Paru grinned in response. "Make it quick, would you? If I die slow, I'm coming back to haunt you."

Bakura glanced at the paper next to them. "I can't do this," he said, ignoring the comment. "I mean, I can't do it myself. I have no doubt that Pharaoh and his bitch of a wife know that I plan to get my son back. They'll have him guarded like a golden horse.

Paru recognized when it was time to be serious. "Most likely," he added. "The woman will be there herself."

"Exactly. Now, the last few times, I made sure to go attack head on. They're expecting me to do it again."

"I'll say they're expecting. Ata has those guards on duty all hours of the day. It's been three days and they're still watching. Although, they look ready to keel over the wall. Maybe if we wait long enough, they'll kill themselves."

The corner of his mouth twitched, but Bakura didn't smile. "I'll do what they're expecting. I'll go up to the doors and try to knock again. I need you to take some around the back or side and get in that way while everyone's distracted in the front. I'll keep their attention as long as I can. You get Akefia and then get the hell out."

"Why me?"

The king looked at him as if to say, _'Do I really need to answer that?'_

"I know, I know. "I trust you" and all that shit, but why aren't you getting your son yourself? It's only right."

Bakura passed a hand over his face. Paru noted that that his eyes had lost just a little of the glimmer from their younger days. It seemed that losing his son to Pharaoh as well as incurring Hasina's distaste had taken a bit of a toll.

"If I could, I would," he said. "But if the thief king's thieves are there without the king, they'll know something's wrong."

Paru nodded in understanding. "Alright, but are you sure you want to entrust your kid's life with me?"

"Who better?"

"Just double checking that this is really something you want me to do."

"It is."

"I'll require payment. Preferably in the form of a stack of bracelets. You know, like the ones I used to have. The ones that mysteriously disappeared."

Bakura flicked a lock of hair out of his eyes and smiled like the cat that he would one day be reincarnated as (Paru was sure). "If you want them back, you'll have to ask the queen. They're out of my hands now."

"So you admit that you took them!"

"I never said I didn't."

"You bastard."

* * *

**A/N: I have always liked this relationship between Paru and Bakura. Once I finally got into the groove of it, I enjoyed writing this chapter. I hope it was up to par!  
I appear to really like the word "smile" in this chapter. Huh ...  
**

**As a note: I **_**think**_** the Egyptians believed in reincarnation. If not exactly reincarnation, they believed that the soul traveled from body to body. It only seems fitting that Bakura's soul would travel to a cat. **


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: This is my birthday present to myself! I mean, it's a present for you guys too, obviously, but I really wanted to do something special for myself. ;) Thank you to all those that reviewed the last chapters; I love you all. Thank you also to my wonderful Beta. I love her too!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bakura. I own everything else. I feel powerful!**

* * *

_Bakura led his mount through the rain of fire. Somewhere to his left, a horse received a blazing arrow to the chest and toppled over. The rider screamed as his horse crushed him. _

_Bakura scowled and pressed on. If the boy couldn't even navigate through something as simple as this, he didn't belong with the thieves. _

_And it was a simple task. The sentries on the wall weren't even aiming properly. For every arrow that grazed the flank of one horse, five hit the sands around them. So far, only two had hit their intended targets. _

_Seemingly, the queen's plan of having a constant guard was doing the opposite of what she had intended. Long shifts of alternatively squinting at sands that reflected the sun and peering into the deepest of darks at night was more of a detriment than help. _

_All the better for Bakura. _

_On the other hand, forcing his way to the front gate now was boring. In a normal circumstance, the opposition would have been maybe a little challenging, but now it was like ripping through fabric with a well-honed knife. _

_Out of the corner of his eye, Bakura saw a group of horses peel off to the right, led by one dark horse, and its ill-suited-for-stealth-because-his-head-reflects-any-kind-of-light-and-shines-like-a-fucking-torch rider. _

_If the situation had allowed, Bakura would have stopped and smiled. He knew of no one better than Paru to lead the expedition to save his son. The thief king knew that, as soon as they returned, his friend would demand something in return for his efforts. But he didn't care; he'd pay anything.  
_

_By the time Bakura reached the front gate, he had lost sight of the sneaking group. He sent a quick prayer to the gods for Paru's safety and success. He doubted that they would listen to him, as he had all but forsaken them years ago. For extra measure, he sent a mental message to his friend. _

If you fuck up, I won't even attempt to get those bracelets back from Hasina.

_Satisfied with his pious moment, Bakura returned to his current setting. Before the lead foot soldier could react, he hooked an arm around the man's arm and pulled him across the horse. He drew his knife and pressed the tip against the soldier's exposed neck, trotting in a circle. _

_If the archers had trouble shooting a target moving in a straight line, they'd be hard pressed to hit one moving in figure eights and circles. _

"_I request a presence with the king and queen," he shouted. Bakura did try for a respectful tone. Truly, he did._

* * *

Something was wrong. Something was horribly wrong; he could feel it. Maybe it was because his master had left without him. Or maybe it was the suffocating tension in the air. Even in the wide open, he felt like something was pressing down on him.

He'd noticed something was amiss earlier. Some of the other horses had been brushed and bridled by their masters before the sun had disappeared. But not him.

Then, when the sun had been gone for hours, his master came out. That was wrong. He usually came out right after the sun went away.

His master had come out with the girl in tow. He liked the girl. She always fed him extra sugar cane sticks when his master wasn't around.

They had come to him looking grave. His master had rested a hand on his neck and then went to another horse.

That was wrong.

His master always rode him.

The girl was still at his side when his master came over, riding that other horse. He had stamped his hoof to show his disapproval.

"When you see us," his master had said, "you head east. I plan to take them on a longer, twisted route that should confuse them, but I'll send some of the thieves towards you."

"Be careful, Bakura," she had responded.

"I intend to."

He had given her a half bow from his seat and then ridden off.

Now they were outside the stable, waiting. The girl was sitting on his back, scratching a patch of rough skin on his neck.

That was another reason he liked the girl. She always knew where he needed to be scratched the most, all the time. It was like she could read his mind.

But he had been standing there for a while. The other horses from the stable were with him, riders on their backs. They stamped their hooves in impatience.

He prided himself on his ability to stand still. He had been doing this almost all his life; he knew how to act.

Despite his training, he couldn't help but shake his head every so often and whinny. He could feel the fear of the girl through her fingers and she was incredibly taut, poised to move at a moment's notice.

Soft muffled hoof falls marked the presence of another horse next to him. The other beast tried to bump noses, but he turned away in annoyance.

"Did you pay the tavern keeper?"

"Yes," the girl on his back said.

"He was a kind man to let us in his tavern for so long."

"Or a great fool. Pharaoh and Ata know we've been here. They'll do nothing short of torture to get information about us out of him."

"It's not like he had a choice of whether or not to let the thieves stay."

He felt the vibration of the girl's laugh. He whipped his head around to catch a glimpse of the other woman. Her dark hair was pulled back and it looked like she had a horsetail herself. Her face was covered by the shadows, but he could see a compassionate smile on her lips. She reached out a hand to touch the girl on his back.

"Everything will be alright Hasina," she said softly.

He flung his head up and down in agreement. The girl touched his shoulder and he felt another shock of fear flow from her to him.

"Then why do I feel like something bad is going to happen?"

He stamped his hoof.

* * *

**A/N: Oh dear, a horse that understands human speak? Have I jumped the shark? I'm merely hovering over it in a helicopter. Once it starts talking, then you can shoot me. **

**I struggled with the point of view of this chapter for a long time, but I must say, I'm very pleased with the outcome. **

**Happy Birthday to Me!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: Unfortunately, I had little inspiration for the first part of this chapter. I did not do my best on this one. Even my beta agrees (well, she says it's not my best work, but it's still darn good. So ...). The next chapter will be twice as good, I promise.  
Thank you to, of course, my beta! I love you!  
Thank you also, as always, to RedShadowThief, Lita of the Dancing Flames, Kiterious, and Purple Dragon of the Flames.  
**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Bakura, or Atem, or Egypt. **

_Atem sat on his throne, regal, cool, and hating the man being presented. Next to him, Ata was shaking with cold fury. She was gripping her armrests tightly, which caused her knuckles to turn white. He wouldn't have been surprised if the chair broke under her grasp. _

_Atem was, of course, angry as well, though he did a better job at covering it up. The soldiers, those who had sworn to protect his life, had brought in the one person who wouldn't hesitate to kill him, if given half a chance. Though the pharaoh hated to admit it, the thief would probably be able to succeed too. At least the guards had had the sense to remove the visible weapons. However, Atem suspected that each intruder had at least two hidden somewhere on their bodies _

_He sat back and tried to imagine where they would be tucked away on Bakura. Somewhere in the folds of the thief's billowing cloak, no doubt. A person could hide a litter of cats in the garment. The second was probably tucked into the cloth that hung around the thief's waist. But if it slipped it would …_

_Atem felt a very un-royal blush cross his face as an image of _what_ the knife would hit if it fell came to mind. _

_He was startled when Ata jumped up. _

_"You can't possibly believe that!" she shouted. _

_Bakura smirked from the floor. "I mean every word I say, ever. But could you restate what it was I said? I don't think Pharaoh was paying attention." _

_The royal scowled. Even though the thief was right, Atem didn't want to give him the satisfaction of seeing him embarrassed._

_"Sit down and tell me," he commanded. _

_Ata complied, though he could tell she did it grudgingly. "He thinks that we, by right, should give him half the treasures in the palace, just because we have his son." _

_"No," the thief called their attention back to him. "I said that you, by right, should be fair. And being fair would imply giving me half of your treasures, just because you have my son." _

_Atem rested a finger on the edge of his wife's chair; a silent command to not say anything. "And what makes you figure that, thief?" _

_"You have something precious to me. It would appear that your gold is precious to you." _

_The pharaoh could feel his temper rising, as it always did when the thief was in his company for too long. "Well, by your logic, then you owe me a great deal of precious things as well, seeing as you've taken enough of my gold in the past." _

_Bakura waved his hand, as if he were shooing away an annoying fly. "That was different. I was just playing then."_

_"You can't be serious." _

_"I'm as serious as a camel," Bakura said with a straight face. _

_Atem stood up then and put on his best menacing-ruler face. "It will not happen, bastard." _

_"Ooo, I'd prefer if you didn't call me that. Only my wife can call me that." _

_"You are NOT getting your son and you're NOT getting my gold. I should have you caught and hanged right now." _

_Bakura shrugged. "As you already know, my men and I are quite capable to evading your soldiers, so good luck with that.__ But I understand your answer. Instead of just giving me what I want now, you'd rather suffer through years of me coming and depleting your gold. Or maybe you enjoy it. It's got to be a hell of a better source of entertainment then your _stupid_ fucking priests." _

_"If you try it, you'll be dead within the first month."_

"Then I'll make sure to make lots of little thieves with Hasina first. Then they can take my place and steal your gold instead. Oh, sorry; have I hit a soft spot?" 

_He could feel himself shaking and he imagined he was as purple as some of his hairs, but Atem didn't care. He was too furious to even speak, so he pointed to the door. As soon as the thief disappeared, he would send the guards after him._

Bakura took the hint and started to turn around, but Ata suddenly called him back. 

_"Is that is? All that trouble, and you're leaving just like that?" _

_"Ata," Atem said warningly, but she ignored him. She stood again._

"You're not even trying to make an arrangement to get your son back?"

"No, why should I? You obviously wouldn't agree to anything."

"Surely Hasina wants him."

Bakura paused and appeared to be deep in thought. "Yes, I guess she does. I'll have to just come back and take him some other time."

_Ata stiffened. She pierced the thief with her cold, blue eyes for what seemed like eternity before turning to Atem. _

_"I need to check on something." _

_Atem allowed her to leave with a gesture. He turned back to Bakura and opened his mouth to say something, but the thief was backing up. _

_"Your Majesty," Bakura said in a mocking tone. He even added a deep bow._

_Before the pharaoh had a chance to process his actions, the thief king had whirled around and darted out the door, his minions hard on his heels. The soldiers looked back and forth between their ruler and the door. Atem frowned. _

_"What are you waiting for? After them!"_

* * *

It had gone wrong. The 'foolproof' rescue plan had failed, like she thought it would. When they'd rushed towards the tavern, Hasina had searched each man. She saw no child in anyone's arms. Two feelings battled for dominance inside her then.

The first was grief; they hadn't saved her boy.

The second was a horrible sense of victory. They hadn't saved her boy, just as she had told them. Bakura had tried to tell her that he would, but he had depended too highly on the incompetence of Pharaoh and his wife. Hasina had told him, over and over again, that they were smarter than he thought.

"But you're too stuck up and full of yourself to listen to me. 'Look at me! I'm Bakura. I'm the king of thieves. There isn't any one who could possibly be smarter than me. I can't ever be caught!' That's what you think, isn't it? You could have _died! _You stupid, moronic, pig-headed bast-!"

She was cut off suddenly as Bakura's lips crashed into hers. It was a rough and almost painful kiss, with all the pent up passion of both parties. Bakura placed one hand on the back of her head and the other on the small of her back. Hasina, for all her anger, could not pull away. She didn't want to. She wrapped her fingers in his hair and opened her mouth more. She could feel the tension leave him.

After what seemed like a thousand heartbeats, Bakura broke off. He leaned over to kiss her neck and then her shoulder. Then he pulled her close, wrapping both arms around her, enveloping her with his entire body. Hasina rested a hand on his shoulder and gasped in surprise.

He was shaking!

The girl detangled herself to look her husband head on. He was panting heavily and staring at the ground, his hair covering his face.

"B-Bakura?"

The thief looked up, scowling. His eyes were dry.

"How was I supposed to know she would have a mother's instinct? She's not a parent."

"Some people just naturally have it, I suppose."

"It would have been better if she hadn't. Everything would have been fine if she'd just sat down and shut up."

Hasina opened her mouth to respond, but found she didn't really have anything to say.

"I don't know what happened, really. I was leaving, and then she stood up. There was something in her eye … it was like I had just told her we were taking back Akefia."

"Mother's instinct," Hasina answered softly, reminding him of his previous statement. "It's lucky that you all are okay. Relatively." She touched his forearm, where a soldier's steel had sliced him.

"I'll go back," Bakura vowed. When Hasina protested, he held up a hand. "I promised you I'd get our son back, didn't I? Besides, you said so yourself, I'm pigheaded and stupid."

"If they capture you—…"

"But they won't," Bakura grinned cheekily. "'Look at me! I'm Bakura. I'm the king of thieves. There isn't any one who could possibly be smarter than me. I can't ever be caught."

Hasina bit her lip to keep the corners of her mouth from curling up. She reached up to kiss him again. "I want Akefia, but I want you too, Bakura. I'll murder you if you die on me."

"And if I don't die?"

"I will … let you sleep with me again."

"I didn't die this time."

The girl laughed as Bakura picked her up. She accepted his victory with a smile. "You failed your mission. I'm supposed to be mad at you."

"I won't tell anyone."

In moment of seriousness, Bakura pressed his forehead against hers and sighed. "I love you, Hasina."

**A/N: ((dies from cheesy-but-cute****_ish_****-last-line-of-the-chapter syndrome)) Also, "I'll kill you if you die"? What a terribly overused and cliché line. I don't know what's wrong with me! **

**If any of you are lost and have no idea what's going on, please feel free to PM me and ask wtf. I know these last two chapters were kind of confusing … I'm confused. And I wrote it. I guess that's a bad sign.  
Also, timeline: This is now about … two months after the end of ****_Hasina_**** (give or take a couple weeks). This particular chapter is set a month after the previous chapter.  
(Writing the timeline out helps me to keep my facts straight, and also, ideally, will help you out while you're reading … maybe?) **

**Thanks for reading and ... please review?  
**


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: Chemistry exam? What chemistry exam? SATs? What are these SATs you speak of?  
In my defense, I have been studying my ass off all week.  
Disclaimer: The only thing I don't own in this chapter is Bakura. Which, ironically, is the one thing I want.**

_Time line: Bakura and his thieves failed their mission at the palace. Hasina, Merit and the thieves who had remained at the tavern were saddled and ready to move, on the king's orders. As soon as he appeared within sight, they shot off in a gallop towards the east._  
_Bakura, as it happened, was being chased by the soldiers from the palace. He, along with a chosen few, led the guards on a merry trip around the desert for a few hours before shaking them off. Then they rejoined the rest of the thieves._  
_This is set about a week and a half after the last chapter._

* * *

"No!" Bakura snapped stubbornly.

The way he said it made him sound immature and Hasina imagined him as a child, stamping his feet in protest. She hid a giggle behind her fingers, causing Paru to glance over and raise an eyebrow.

"What?" he inquired.

Hasina leaned over and clued him into her vision. He chuckled quietly in response.

"Don't tell him that," he whispered back.

She grinned, her eyes twinkling gleefully.

Merit's exasperated sigh brought the two back to the conversation at hand.

"Bakura, it's the only village nearby and we're running out of food."

"I don't care. I'd rather die in a fucking cavern before going there."

"You don't have to announce your entrance. You're a thief, for Ra's sake. Just steal some food and then we can move on."

"I'm not going there. _We_ are not going there."

"We _have_ too. Otherwise you and everyone else will die."

"So we die."

Paru and Hasina, who had been flipping their attention between the siblings, froze and frowned at Bakura.

"Bakura, you don't seriously mean that, do you?" Paru asked, tentatively.

"Of course I do. It'd be easier for me to starve to death than go to that damn village."

"Then you can starve," Merit stole her brother's focus again. "But I have son to feed and, gods be good, a much longer life to live, and I would like to continue on, thank you very much."

From the back of Bakura's throat came a feline-like growl. His ruby eyes narrowed and he stepped close to Merit's face.

"Then go. You go to that village and you get your damn food for your Ra damn son, and you tell me how easily they allow you in and accept you. Schent _knows_ you're with me and she probably sent news to the family. You'll get as good a greeting there that I would get at the palace."

"But we-!" Bakura stalked away before Merit could finish her thought.

For a moment, Hasina was rooted to the spot and looked frantically between the woman and Bakura's receding back.

Paru touched her arm and nodded in the thief king's direction.

"I'll deal with her," he said softly.

She smiled thankfully and dashed off after her husband.

"He's become an insufferable, selfish brat," Merit fumed when she was out of range. "He would rather let every one of us die before going to the village? Who does he think he is, saying that kind of thing?"

Paru started to say, _He is the king of thieves_, but he opted to keep silent.

"I mean," Merit continued. "It's not even like he has to actually go there. We just need some food and maybe a steady place to sleep for a night or two. We could stay on the outskirts of the village; they wouldn't even have to see him."

"Go easy on him Merit. He did just fail the mission to rescue Akefia; he's still upset about that and his old village is probably the last place he wants to go for comfort. The people did kind of screw up his childhood, right? Except for you, of course."

"I know what they did," Merit snapped. "But he's turning this into a big deal and it doesn't have to be. Can't you all just go in and steal something? You are thieves, aren't you? That's what you do."

"Well yeah, but it's a little more difficult than tha-…"

"What, because you have to skirt around _people_ instead of _traps_?"

Paru shrugged. "Yeah that too. I guess we haven't been going into houses much recently. But it's not the same as just robbing someone's house. This is a whole village we're talking about here, Merit."

"So?"

"It'll take a bit more planning, I think."

The woman clasped Paru's hands in her own and stood on her toes to look him in the eye. "Then go plan with him," she ordered.

Uncomfortable, he shifted his gaze. Taking a step back, he said, "I can try but, you know, what Bakura says, goes."

Merit dropped his hands like she had been burned. "You would rather follow that stupid moron than have some common sense and just get food while you can?"

"Stupid moron is kind of a redundant statement," Paru commented softly.

"Oh, have we gone onto discuss my limited arsenal of insults now?" Merit's nostrils flared angrily as she spoke. Her eyes were dark and cold in a way that Paru had never seen before. Then again, he had never actually seen her mad before.

Something came over the thief and, despite knowing he would regret it later, he opened his mouth.

"I intend to stick with Bakura through whatever. He's my best friend and I owe it to him to always be by his side. If that means dying too, then I'll do that, although, starving is not the classiest way to go out. We both probably should have been dead years ago anyhow."

Merit blinked rapidly, surprised at his outburst. Then she lowered her eyes and said, "Of course."

Her dejected tone tugged at Paru's heart and he could already feel the beginning of regret pooling in the back of his mind. "Merit, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. I just …" he raised his hands hopelessly.

"No, I understand," she responded. "I don't like it, but I understand."

They stood in silence for a while longer. Paru was unsure of what to do, but he had already figured out that hugging her right now would be inappropriate.

Merit was the first to speak again.

"Where's Pepi?" she asked. "I want to see him."

When the name of his son was brought up, Paru felt the sparks of regret from earlier explode. The full meaning of his words finally hit him.

"He's with Ameen I think," he answered quietly. "I'll get him for you."

As he left Merit to make herself comfy in their corner of the desert, he prayed to the gods that Hasina would be able to change Bakura's mind.

He would follow Bakura anywhere and do whatever, but he didn't want Merit and Pepi to suffer in the meantime.

* * *

Hasina found the king with his horse at the edge of camp. She stopped a few feet away and watched him for a moment.

His face was, for the most part, emotionless as he passed a brush over the horse's flank. He dragged fingers through his mane, pulling out the many tangles and whispered softly in his ear. The beast whickered every so often and playfully nipped at his master's cloak when it came within biting distance. Bakura shoved the offending head away each time with a chuckle.  
Only when he looked up and acknowledged her presence did she step closer. She gave the stallion a kiss on the nose.

"He doesn't like when you ride another horse," she stated. "Do you?" she asked the horse, staring him in one eye.

The beast shook its head and neighed. He pressed his nose into her hand and wrapped his lips around her fingers. Hasina laughed and faced Bakura. "See?"

He looked at her impassively. "He doesn't seem to care. He's happy enough with you." He returned to brushing the horse's body while Hasina played with his face. When Bakura was done, he gave his steed a slap on the hindquarters to send him away. He huffed in protest, but trotted off anyway.

Bakura settled down on the sand, so the girl sprawled out next to him. The thief observed her as she stretched out. Her dark hair was pulled into a braid, but it was starting to fight the constraints of the ribbon holding it together. A few strands framed her face and gave her a regal look. It was a graceful look, befitting a queen with a palace, as opposed to the rugged beauty of a queen of thieves, though Bakura thought she was pretty either way.

"… going? … Bakura, are you listening to me?"

The thief blinked lazily, giving her a 'not-really' shrug. "What?"

Hasina shot him a half-hearted glare. "I asked where are we going?"

"What do you mean?"

"You don't intend to stay in this part of the desert for all eternity, do you?"

"Oh." Bakura frowned and twisted his head to stare at the large blanket of sun-reflecting sand outstretched before him. He glowered at sweep of land until his eyes hurt. When a significant number of seconds passed, he regarded Hasina again.

"Did Merit send you?"

Hasina feigned a look of hurt. "Don't you trust me?"

Bakura mumbled something incoherently under his breath. The girl laughed as she reached a hand out to brush his arm.

"I am here on my own account. But …" she bit her bottom lip and looked sheepish. "I … I don't want to sound pushy, but we _are_ going to run out of food within the next few days. And if Merit is right and this _is_ the last village for a while, then we should stop. I know you don't want to, but what are we going to do otherwise?"

"I haven't thought that far ahead."

"I think you should start thinking that far ahead, because it isn't really that far ahead."

Bakura grunted in response. She flipped over and crawled closer, giving him a peck on the cheek.

"Think of it this way. You're Bakura now. You are the thief king, not just a little boy that nobody likes. This is your chance to show them what you've become. If need be, you can threaten them a little. At least enough so that they'll give us what we need."

The corners of Bakura's mouth twitched. He liked the idea of threatening people; especially _those _people. He stared into the eyes of his wife.

"I'll think about it."

* * *

**A/N: Paru could have a TV drama of his own. Call it, "Love, or Loyalty." Hehe.**

**By the time this chapter was finished, I had completed both the chemistry exam and the SATs. Can you tell – I used more big words in the second part! Whoo hoo! Oddly enough, I feel that the part of the story I wrote under stress was better than the part I wrote when I had less stress.**  
**Unfortunately, I now have another big test and another chemistry exam to study for … the fun never stops!**

**Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and I hope it made up for the less-than-great last chapter!**  
**(P.S. – I promised Red a Paru-POV chapter. I apologize! Next chapter maybe …?)**


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: I think I'll write this chapter in Paru's point of view. ****_Not_****. Where the fingers go, the mind follows. Something like that?  
Hehe, I said 'bosom.'**

**Time line: Set parallel to the previous chapter. Since Bakura's attempted rescue of his son, Ata put her foster child under constant watch and has made a habit of visiting him in her spare time.  
Remember that Hasina named her son Akefia, but Ata calls him Sati.**

* * *

Nefertari tried to give Akefia another morsel of food, but he was having none of it. Every time she brought the spoon close to his mouth, he turned his face away.

"Come on, Akefia, you've got to eat something," she said, pushing the utensil to his lips again. The baby flipped his head to the other side, his tiny mouth pursed into a pout.

"You've hardly eaten a thing, child!" The maid tried twice more to feed him but finally gave up and put the spoon down.

"What's wrong with you lately? You've been acting awfully strange," she thought aloud, lifting him from his seat.

Akefia settled reluctantly against her bosom, though he was happy not to have to deal with the food anymore.

"You almost got to go home to your mother," Nefertari was saying as she paced the room, bouncing him gently. "Is that why you're upset, Akefia? Can your hear your mother calling for you?"

She kissed the baby on one of his soft cheeks. When he reached up to touch her face, she clenched her jaw to stop from wincing.

"The walls have ears these days. Don't call him by that name."

Nefertari jumped in surprise and glanced over her shoulder. To her relief, it was Samiya who had spoken.  
"Gods help me, Samiya, I thought you were the queen."

"I just as well might have been. Watch that tongue of yours," Samiya chided. She motioned the young woman closer. "Put the child down and let me see your face."

Nefertari set the boy gently on the floor in the middle of the room with his toys. Then she returned to Samiya's side. She walked slowly, knowing that the next few moments were going to hurt.

Without a word, the older woman pressed two fingers lightly on Nerfertari's temple, cheekbone, and jaw. The girl whimpered at each touch; they left a jarring pain that spread from her head to her fingertips and toes.

Samiya pursed her lips disapprovingly. "It's been a week and it still hurts you like it happened yesterday. He hit you too hard," she said. She gave the young servant a compassionate look. "How does it feel when someone _isn't_ poking at it?"

"It feels okay," Nefertari stated with a smile. "It only hurts when I open my mouth and turn my head quickly. I try not to move around a lot."

"You probably shouldn't be picking up the boy."

"No! I mean … it's okay. It doesn't hurt that much." She didn't want to stop playing with Akefia. She liked picking him up and carrying him around the room.

"Well, don't do it too much then."

Nefertari nodded to show she understood and went to sit with the baby on the floor. Samiya set about clearing the food and straightening the room, preparing for the queen who had, as of late, made it her new custom to visit her cousin's son every day after her midday meal. The room was silent but for the occasional grunt of protest from Akefia when Nerfertari took away his toy, and then the subsequent victorious squeal when he (as he thought) stole it back from her.

Suddenly, the young servant looked up and said, "He had to."

Samiya paused in her work long enough to inquire as to what she meant.

"You said earlier that he hit me too hard," Nerfertari explained. "If the queen had come around the corner and seen us talking amiably with the thief, she would have been suspicious. He did the thing that would have looked the most believable. And I suggested it, remember?"

"Yes, but he needn't have-…" The rest of Samiya's sentence was cut off by a bang on the door.

"Her Majesty, the queen," one of the guards stationed outside announced.

Before he had even finished proclaiming her presence, Ata entered the room. The two maids curtsied low, but she floated past them and straight to the child on the floor. She lifted him up with a twirl and carried him around the perimeter of the room. Through her lashes, Samiya noted that this was the only time she had ever seen the queen genuinely smile.

Ata took another turn around the room before stopping in front of the maids, the child on her hips.

"Has he been eating?" she demanded.

"I tried to feed him just before you came, Your Majesty," Nefertari said. "But he wouldn't take anything from me."

"Well, try harder. He doesn't look like he's growing." Ata took one of the boy's hands between two fingers and shook it up and down. "Are you growing at all, Sati? Have you gotten bigger, huh?"

He didn't respond at all, only stared out the window into the vast sandy expanse beyond.

"Sati? Look at me, Sati."

He continued to gaze at some point on the horizon.

"Sa… Akefia."

At that, the child turned his head and gaped at the queen. His bright blue eyes got big with wonder as he reached a hand out to her face.

Ata whirled on the maids, glaring reprovingly. "What do you call him when you're alone?" she demanded.

"We call him by his name, Your Majesty," Samiya responded, tactfully.

"But what name?"

"We call him by his proper name, Your Majesty."

"But there's two. The one I gave him, and the one _she_ gave him. You call him that, don't you? The name she gave him before she left."

The servants were saved from answering by the guard outside banging on the door again.

"His Majesty, the pharaoh!" He announced.

All three women stood shocked as Atem strolled into the room. He gave the room a once over before walking to their cluster. The maids immediately dropped into curtsies, muttering, "Your Majesty" on the way down. Ata stayed standing and stared at him. Her lips were pursed into a small pout and she looked offended.

"What are you doing here?" She sounded as if he had walked into the most private part of her life without her permission.

Atem faltered at her tone for a brief moment, and then gathered his wits about him. "I wanted to speak with you," he said.

"Why here?"

"I had some time." He gave Samiya and Nefertari a pointed glance and, with more curtsies and murmured titles, they stepped away from the royal couple. Atem turned to talk to his wife again, but was caught by a separate pair of blue eyes. For a while, he had a staring contest with the baby. The child's curiously contemplative look never wavered, even when a wind came in from the outside and blew strands of his white hair into his face. The pharaoh, too, was unwilling to take his purple gaze off the spawn of his enemy. He knew that it was ridiculous, but Atem thought that, if the baby were given an inch, he would take a mile; look away once, and he would turn out just like his father. In his mind, Atem watched as the blue eyes turned red, as the white cloud grew longer and wilder. His head became bigger and the baby lips closed their innocent 'O', and the corners of his mouth curled into a smirk. In a matter of seconds, Atem saw, not a few-month-old child in Ata's arms, but the thief king himself.

"Well?" Ata's voice brought the pharaoh back to the room.

Atem shook his head to rid himself of the image. Even when the vision of the thief king was gone, he still imagined he saw a smirk on the baby's face. The man cleared his throat and looked from the child to the woman. Ata's raised eyebrow signified that his non-verbal exchange with the smaller figure had not gone unnoticed. He cleared his throat again.

"I have given some thought to your proposal," Atem started. "We need a child of our own, you're right. We need a son. But since I can't …" Here, he stopped. It shamed him to admit that he couldn't do the most basic, the most _important_ task as pharaoh … but he knew that Ata would not be sympathetic to him about the issue, so he tried not to think about it. "The child should come from at least one of us," he finished quietly.

Ata nodded in approval. "I'm glad you understand," she said. It was as if he were a naughty boy and she had just finished drilling into him the rules of the house again. "When do I start?"

Atem cringed from her bluntness. "Whenever you are ready," he answered. "Tonight, if possible. Tomorrow, if you would rather wait. Tell me when and I will pick a proper … man for you."

"Tonight," Ata returned readily. "And it must be one of our brothers. If we're going to do it this way, we might as well make our heir look somewhat like you. In addition, we'll be keeping the bloodline pure."

Atem nodded in consent. "The sooner we can replace _him_, the better."

There was little question as to which _'him'_ the pharaoh was talking about.

"Sati is staying," the woman said, forcefully.

He froze. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that Sati is staying. I intend to raise him as my son. He won't be prepared for the throne, but he will be brought up alongside our heir."

"Why?" Atem asked, warily.

"It's my punishment to Hasina for bringing shame to our family. I don't want her to get any ideas that she might be able to whisk him away after we have settled a son for ourselves. I want her to know and to see her child raised by my side by side with my own. I know it will bring her agony."

The pharaoh opened his mouth to respond, but he didn't have anything to say. Instead, he gave the baby another look. Innocent blue eyes stared back at him.

"As long as he doesn't get in the way of … our heir's progress," Atem said finally. "I don't want the spawn of that man on my throne." He gave the child in Ata's arms one last cold glance before tipping his head to his wife.

"Good day, Sister. And I wish you a good and fruitful night as well."

He whirled on his heel and went out the door, passing by the servants as they bobbed their curtsies. They turned to face the other royal character.

"Not a word," Ata commanded unnecessarily.

* * *

**This second part is set a few days after the first part; thus, a few days after the previous chapter**

Paru looked up from his fire to watch Hasina as she settled next to him. Her hair was pulled back in a loose bun and he was, once again, able to see what it was about her that drew his friend in. Her lips were pressed together lightly, her eyebrows were furrowed, and the firelight reflected off her eyes, which were glassy and gave her an expression of deep thought.

"Bakura?" Paru guessed the topic of her contemplations.

She nodded, coming back to her senses. "He's off sulking, again," she said. "He is either incapable of, or doesn't want to see the logic in Merit's thinking and I've pissed him off by siding with her."

"Maybe if you slept with him, he would see things your way." Paru grinned cheekily.

Hasina glanced at him. "I've already bribed him," she responded, completely serious. "I told him that, if he agrees to go, I'll take him to bed. He's currently debating which desire is stronger – his want for me, or his wish to not see his old village."

The thief laughed. "You wily woman. There's no way he can turn you down. That's like asking him to chose between death and a roomful of treasure."

The girl's eyes sparkled gleefully. "That was my general aim. How are you and Merit?"

Paru's mouth twitched. "I think she's still mad that I, essentially, chose Bakura over her. … But she still lets me come to her at night, so she can't be that mad. She spends more time with Pepi than with me though. "

"Ra, these siblings are hard to please, aren't they? Bakura doesn't like when I agree with Merit. She doesn't like when you side with him." Hasina jokingly complained. "Maybe we should switch partners, eh?"

The thief covered his mouth to keep himself from letting out a loud laugh that would have woken any sleeping character around. "You've been spending too much time with us. To think that a fancy girl from the royal family would say something like that."

While Hasina stared into the flames, Paru gave her another peek. Her body hadn't quite made the transition from queen of Egypt to queen of thieves yet. Her already deliciously golden skin had tanned little, despite the many days in the sun. Her long tapered fingers were still smooth and her nails hadn't broken. Whether she realized it or not, she still held herself like a person constantly on display, as she had when she was the pharaoh's wife. The personality she exuded now reminded Paru of the personality she had when they first met – proud, but childishly so; wise, despite her young years.

When he snickered, she turned towards him.

"What?" she asked, suspiciously.

"Nothing. I just had a memory of when we first met each other. How far we've come."

"As I recall, you were going to strip me naked if Bakura hadn't intervened."

Paru belted out a deep hoot. He held his hands out in a peace gesture. "In my defense," he said, "I wasn't going to touch you."

"No, you were just going to watch."

"Well, of course."

Hasina shook her head. "How in the name of the gods did we become friends?"

At that, the man sobered. The fire flickered across his face, alternatively tossing him into shadow and light.

"Friends?" he questioned, almost hesitantly.

Hasina gave him one of her dazzling smiles. "Yes. Did you consider us to be anything less?"

For the second time in his life, Paru stumbled over his words. "I didn't … I thought maybe … you know, j-just, like … you love Bakura. I … I thought … you know."

Finally, he gave up and shifted his body away from her and closer to the flame. Hasina's tinkling laugh rung in his ear.

"I've been doing too many illegal things with you to not be friends. Plus, you're my brother through marriage … I think." She looked momentarily confused, but then waved the thought away. "I have to be your friend if I have any hope of a somewhat happy family."

Paru's eyes grew in wonder as he realized how much of a difference there was between the woman beside him now and the girl from two years ago.

"I never had anyone actually _call_ me a friend before," he admitted. "E-except Bakura."

"What about Merit?"

"She's my wife, the mother of my son, and I do love her. Our friendship is a given, but we've never specifically said, 'You're my friend.'"

"Then I'm honored to be your second verbally recorded friend."

Paru was silent for a moment. Then, quietly, he said, "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For everything; for being mean to you at first, for all the trouble you've gone through at the palace because of us and for … for not being able to rescue your son, Akefia."

Hasina didn't respond for a while and the man glimpsed across his shoulder to make sure she was still there. She sat, staring at the burning logs and following the dancing flames, seemingly in a different world. Immediately, Paru regretted mentioning the estranged child to her. He had already witnessed how the topic depressed her when he had accidentally walked upon a conversation between her and Bakura. He opened his mouth to apologize again, but she beat him to the punch.

She lifted her head to look at him and Paru bit his lip as he realized that her normally bright blue eyes where darker and … wet.

Despite the tears, she gave him a grin that was better suited for a party atmosphere. "I should be the one apologizing. Not for you being mean to me; that's entirely on you. But I was selfish and just wanted my son. I didn't even consider the danger of the task until all of you were back."

"It's not selfish! You're a mother; any decent mother would go to any length to save their kid. I know Merit would."

"I still want to say sorry for putting you through that."

"Don't apologize." Paru could feel his cheeks burning up.

Hasina smirked. "I won't if you won't."

"Deal."

"I'll see him again sometime," the girl swore. "Even if it costs me my life, I will see my son once more. It might be next month, next year; even ten years from now. But I will definitely see him and hold him again." Her fingers curled into the palms of her hands and she wrapped her arms around her body.

Paru scooted over to her, draped an arm over her shoulder, and pulled her head down to his shoulder. "I want to be there when you do. I want to be one of the people who help you to do that. It won't be to make up for not saving him now; you won't let me apologize for that. But … I'd like to see my nephew again too. And Pepi could use a friend."

Hasina giggled into the night air as she imagined the meeting of the two boys. "It can be Paru and Bakura: generation two."

Paru grinned at the prospect.

Behind him, where neither could see, Bakura and Merit watched them in silence. The woman pressed closer to her brother and smiled. Bakura didn't take his eyes off the two figures by the fire, but he acknowledged his sister's presence by resting his cheek on the top of her head.

"I have no intention of switching partners with you, Merit," Bakura growled, picking up on the most important part of the conversation. "Paru is too much like a brother for me to even _consider_ fucking him."

Merit rolled her eyes and smiled, realizing that her brother was intentionally trying to ruin the moment. "I'll be sure to drop the hint to him if it ever comes up."

When the fire had died down to embers struggling to produce light, Bakura shifted to face Merit.

"I'll go," he grumbled. "But don't expect me to talk to anyone."

Merit sighed in relief. "You don't have too. All you need to do is look menacing and they'll leave you alone."

The white haired man nodded once. "Good. We'll move there tomorrow. Get some sleep now. You'll need it."

Merit seemed reluctant to let go of his arm and, after a few seconds of deliberation, she looked up at him and asked timidly, "Would you mind if you and I slept with each other tonight? I miss our younger days and … it doesn't seem like we'll be sleeping with our respective partners anyhow."

Bakura glanced over at Hasina and Paru, who had tumbled over into a heap of arms and legs near the ever-smaller blaze. When he looked down at his sister's upturned face, he softened in remembrance of when they had shared a bed as children. Back then, she had been the bigger one and easily enveloped him in her loving, warm arms.

"Might as well," he said. He would return the favor.

**A/N: Let's all say it together: D'awwwwww! Okay, so the second part of this chapter – that is, the scenes between Paru and Hasina and Merit and Bakura – turned out MUCH fluffier than I had originally intended. However, I think I just needed to write some fluff for once. For the record, that was not Haru (Parina?) writing; that was just Hasina and Paru - brother and sister through marriage writing. Don't get any wrong ideas!  
**

**RedShadowThief: There is your Paru-POV! It's not a whole chapter, and I will write you a whole chapter at SOME POINT! For now, I hope this works **

**Thank you to ALL of my faithful reviewers. You make me all happy and I hope I have made you happy with this new chapter. Thank you also to my wonderful Beta, without whom, I would be ashamed to write. **

**I wish you all a HAPPY THANKSGIVING! Eat food, get fat, regret NOTHING! Chow down, my friends, chow down. **


	8. Chapter 8

**Author's Note: I have just been re-reading ****_Hasina_**** and ****_Sands_**** … I should really consider going over and fixing my grammatical errors. But I'm just TOO DAMN LAZY!  
Anyway, here's a happy holidays present for you guys. I hope you enjoy it!  
Disclaimer: I do not own Bakura. I own just about every sexy damn beast in this chapter, including Paru.  
Timeline: 5 months later. Pepi is 11 months old; Akefia is 7 months old**

* * *

Bakura cracked his eyes open a sliver as consciousness came over him. The pale morning sun was beating down on him. It was too early for it to warm up his sandy bed, which had cooled over night, but that didn't matter much to him.

The thief rolled over on his side to watch his companion as she slept. The clothes that they had flung aside in their haste had somehow inched closer and were now lying across their feet. Or maybe they had moved the clothes themselves without realizing it. Hasina's hair had come loose during their lovemaking last night and now it flowed over her face and bare shoulders. He moved a strand off her cheek. The girl buried her head even further into the red cloak that served as their blanket, as if the lack of hair on her face made her colder, making Bakura chuckle softly.

He watched her for a few more heartbeats and then got up. After wrapping his wife completely in his cloak and tying a cloth around his hips, Bakura made his way to the small stream to wash off.

Happily finding himself to be alone on the bank, Bakura stripped down and waded into the water. The cold rush of liquid to his lower parts sent goose bumps along his skin and he had a sharp intake of breath, which slowly turned into a contented sigh. As he cupped his hands and poured the water over his body, Bakura grumbled silently to himself. He hated this routine that he had inadvertently gotten into. It meant that he was getting comfortable, which was the one thing he _didn't_ want.

_"Just steal some food and then move on_," Bakura mimicked his sister's voice. "It's been five Ra damn months!" he shouted to the air. "How in fuck's sake did this become our permanent residence?" He dunked his whole head under the water, sufficiently soaking his hair. When he straightened up again, he stood still for a while, letting the water drip from the wet, white mass.

"I didn't want to come here because I hate this place. But nobody ever cares what I want. They just want whatever makes them comfortable. Food. Drink. Women. Worst. Followers. Ever." He aimed a kick in no particular direction, skimming the top of the river and sending up a spray of water.

When Bakura had finished listing the shortcomings of his company of thieves (and sufficiently dried off), he covered up his nether regions once more and, with a last shake of his head to get rid of any remaining water, headed back to the village. Even at this early hour, he could see figures moving within their homes. As he got closer, he noted that many of the shadows stopped for a moment, and then shifted closer towards each other. The thief king chuckled darkly to himself. The fools. Didn't they know that the power of uniting had no effect whatsoever? He could easily break into their house and kill all of them.

If there was one thing he loved about being in this Ra forsaken village that had made his childhood a living hell, it was that they actually _feared him_. They didn't just mock him for being different and pretend that one bad word would send them to their deaths. Now they _cowered_ and tiptoed around him because they knew that, now, he _could_send them to their deaths.

Bakura smirked roguishly. He happened to catch the eye of a girl peering out her window. She squeaked and scurried back to her parents and the thief laughed out loud. He headed towards the building where they stored the food. Rather, where they stored the food _now_. They never had a food storehouse before, but then again, the village had never had to stockpile enough food for twenty men, two women, and one thief king. Bakura had managed to duck into the building and grab an apple before he heard someone calling for him. He grumbled something under his breath about never getting a break before stepping out into the ever-brightening morning.

"Bakura, Bakura! Where are you? Bakura? Oh, there you are," the subordinate thief exclaimed. In response, Bakura gave him a surly look. He remembered the time when the other thieves called him, "My lord," or some other deferential title that made him feel much superior. Now they all talked to him and about him like someone they palled around with as kids. Granted, some of them did, but still. They'd never have talked to Kanebti like that. Mentally, the thief king grimaced. He blamed Hasina and his temporary memory and identity loss for that.

"What?" he growled when the other man stood in front of him.

"Paru wanted to see you. He said it was important."

"So where is he and why couldn't he come find me himself?"

"Said it was important and had to point it out, so he sent me."

Bakura wondered briefly if the thief had even processed what the question had been. "Where is he?" he repeated.

The man pushed his sandy hair out of the way and pointed to one of the rooftops. "Something important," he reiterated one last time.

Clutching the apple between his teeth, Bakura scaled up the wall of the nearest house to the roof. He was mildly surprised to see a young woman and her lover there, but it was incomparable to the shock they had upon being startled awake. Bakura chose to ignore them for the moment and, instead, searched the roofs of the other homes for his friend. The houses were all relatively the same height, so his task was easy and he found his target quickly. Before heading off to hear the "important information," Bakura turned around and gave the young couple a cheeky grin. He observed the way the girl pulled the blanket around her chest, and how she quickly pulled in her bare leg when she realized it was sticking out. The boy glared at the thief as bravely as he could, but he too hid behind the blanket.

"You two look guilty. Something tells me you shouldn't be up here. Together. By yourselves. Maybe you should go home before I tell your parents."

They would have screamed, but that would have thrown them into a whole other pot of boiling water, so they just watched as the thief bounded away, wide eyed and shivering. When the tip of his white hair was well enough away, they pulled apart, slipped on their clothes, and went to their respective homes, fearful that Bakura would keep his word.

Four houses over, Paru was grinning and shaking his head. "You really shouldn't scare people like that. They get it, you've got the power to do anything and they should fear you."

"You've got the ears of a dog, my friend."

"You have the voice of a god. A very loud and obnoxious god." Paru patted the area next to him and watched as his white-haired companion sat down.

"Where's your cloak?"

"Blanket," Bakura gruffly replied.

"Ew. I hope you wash that before wearing it."

"Naturally."

They sat in silence for a few moments before Bakura asked, "Something important?"

"Look," Paru answered, pointing to the horizon.

Bakura followed along his finger to see a cloud of dust far out from the edges of the village. Every so often, he could make out a movement by some dark figure. Though he couldn't see clearly, Bakura assumed they were horses. After all, what else kicks up a perfect miniature sand storm other than a harras of horses?

"Who-?"

"I don't know. I've got the ears of a dog, not the eyes of a hawk. But from their speed, I'd imagine they'll be here in the late afternoon."

Bakura grunted in agreement. "When they get close enough to be identified, give me a shout. I have a hunch, but I'll be able to better plan a course of action if I know for sure.

"Who do you think it is?"

The king of thieves gave his friend a roguish grin, his white hair falling in front of his deep colored eyes, giving him the look of a demon. "My sweet sister."

* * *

Schent jumped off her horse and handed the reins to the stable boy. With a contented sigh, she looked around the town and smiled. It was good to be back home, even if it was for the queen's business.

The servant had been very happy, if somewhat surprised, when Ata had called her to the royal chambers.  
_  
"You have a fortune teller in your village,"_the queen had stated.

Schent had nodded, glancing up briefly. _"Yes, Your Majesty." _  
_  
"Is she any good?"_ Ata had demanded.  
_  
"Yes, Your Majesty."_

"Bring her to me."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

And here she was. Schent had orders to bring Hannavanni back to the palace with her, but she also had been allowed to stay for two week. The woman had two weeks to be with her family and friends again; two weeks to lay with her husband and play with her children. Schent laughed out loud. That was more than the servants were usually allowed. "I'm climbing the royal ladder," she said aloud.

As she spun around again, she noted that the last time she had been here, it was with Has-… Schent cut the thought off. There was no point in remembering petty things like that.

When her companions joined her (they were the guard that Ata had sent to protect her; Schent suspected that they were meant to protect the fortune teller on the ride back), the woman headed to the village center, where she knew her mother and father would be waiting. That's where the people always waited when visitors came.

The village center acted as a visitors' greeting place, a food market, a traders' market, and a children's playground. More often than not, at least three of these things were happening at once. The circled area was enclosed by small mud homes. Most of these homes belonged to the very traders and grocers who sold their goods in the market.

Schent smiled when she saw her parents and children waiting for her. She laughed like a little girl when she caught the eye of her husband; Canopus was making a ridiculous face at her – a mixture of a cheeky grin and look of annoyance. He had a way of making her feel like she was still fifteen; that they were still newly married and did not have two children already.

Then, almost as if they appeared from air, Schent noticed three men on the other side of her parents. She was certain that she'd never seen them in the village before. One was a younger man, with hair as dark as the moonless night sky, and soft brown eyes, twinkling in a way that only a youth's eyes could. He couldn't have been older than Ha—_eighteen. He can't be older than eighteen._ Schent berated herself silently for her second slip.  
The two beside him looked older and seemed to have more worldly experience. If the small wrinkles on their faces didn't give it away, the lack of luster in their eyes and gray and white strands of hair did. They glared at her when she stared and Schent turned away quickly.

"Mother, Father," she greeted her parents. "Husband," she said, giving Canopus a kiss. She gave Zahra and Ap a hug each before facing the strange men again. She bobbed a quick curtsy to them. The young boy stepped forward, took her hand, and kissed it lightly.

"My name is Ameen," he answered her unasked question. He motioned to the man left of him and then the one on the right. "These are my companions, Totoun and Horirem, respectively."

Ameen watched her carefully as she gave the two others a quick look. When she'd had her fill of glares, Schent returned to the face of the boy, who had, as of yet, not let go of her hands. His dark hair reflected the sun and shone in a way that reminded her of a rippling pond. A few strands fell over deep brown eyes, which sparkled with the innocence of youth, but also the mischievousness of a boy. Schent couldn't shake the feeling that she'd seen him before.

"I apologise, but have I seen you before?" she asked, her question blunt and to the point.

Ameen grinned charmingly, dropped his eyes, and bowed over her hand again. "I can say with surety that we have never met. If we had, we would be married, for I would have fallen in love with you upon first sight."

The woman blushed lightly, suddenly very aware that Canopus was watching them.

"As it is," Ameen continued, "You are already married so, at this first meeting, I must guard my heart against such feelings."

A second peek at Ameen's companions showed to Schent that they were trying to hide laughter behind masks of stone and failing. She took a step back. "Charming," she said as blandly as she could. She turned back to her parents. "I've had a long ride," she said. "I'd like to wash up and then perhaps we can have some dinner and exchange news." She gave a pointed look at the strangers.

* * *

Seteta had hoped to feast with her daughter and family alone that night. She thought that, if they were alone, she could quietly let the truth slip. But the thieves seemed to have had the same thought, and the three that had been there to greet Schent were now under her roof and at her table, eating as if nothing was wrong. The young one, Ameen, was walking around the room, finding a place where he could keep track of all the people; those at the table, those in the kitchen area, even the sleeping area. When Seteta passed him by the window, he stretched out a hand and snatched her arm, pulling her in faster than she thought humanly possible. He leaned in, pressing his lips against her ear.

"One word, even the wrong glance, and Bakura will have your head," he hissed. His eyes, which had been sparkling earlier, were hard as flint. Seteta scowled. As if she needed reminding. She'd gotten the hint when the thieves had walked back to her home with them.

When Ameen released her, the woman set her dish of food down and then sat next to her husband at the head of the table. The travelers were already eating. They had been since they'd first sat down – the soldiers shoveling in food with both hands; the woman picking at a slower pace, but already on her third plate. The journey from the Pharaoh's palace to the outskirts was long, but they had ridden through the night to get to the village as fast as possible.

"For the queen," Schent had said. But when Seteta had asked what the queen wanted, her daughter had insisted on hearing what happened to them first.  
As she watched Schent reprimand her son on making a mess, Seteta realized that she did not see the nearly twenty-seven-year-old woman there, but the four-year-old girl from ages past. Her hair had been much shorter than, barely framing her round face. Seteta's sister had been sitting on the other side of her that night, insisting that the little girl could go to court.  
_  
"The royal children are learning letters when they're barely three."_

"My daughter isn't a royal."

"Perhaps she might marry one."

The statement had only been a joke, but it had been enough to make Schent bounce in her seat and beg to be allowed to go. Seteta had consented with a sigh, insisting on going with her, at least for the first few months. That was a decision that she had regretted later on.  
Seteta was brought back to the present by raised voices.

"—Our son! That beast died years ago."

"I'm not saying he's _your_son, but he's not dead. He took the former queen months ago, and he called me 'sister' to my face."

"It's not possible."

Seteta laid a hand on her husband's arm. She gave him a silent command. _Don't yell under my roof. _Part of it was to keep the noise down, but it was mostly to keep him from looking the fool. Of course the thief was her son. She had known it from the moment he'd touched the ground in front of her. She would have known it even if he'd been a mile away. Only one other man had the same erratic white hair and narrow eyes, and he _had_been dead for quite a while. She herself had watched his execution, the morning after their sin.

Turning back to her guests, she said, "Regardless of who he was and whether he's alive or not, he's gone now, and we're nearly back to the way it was before, thanks to Ameen, Totoun, and Horirem." Seteta glanced at each man in turn, receiving a suspicious glare from each. "That man is long gone by now and he won't trouble us anymore," she continued, looking her daughter in the eye. She didn't like lying to Schent, the child who had trusted her the most, but anything but lies would lay her village to waste, and she didn't want that either. "It was good that they came along when they did, otherwise we would still be cleaning up."

"Just the three of them?" Schent asked skeptically.

Ameen answered, "No, there's five others, but they were all up late last night, so they're sleeping right now. Lazy bas—men." The thief grinned sheepishly at Zahra and Ap.

"But enough about us," Seteta said, calling all attention back to her. "Tell us what this business is you're doing for the queen."

Schent sat up straighter and clasped her hands in her lap. "The queen is with child," she said. "I mentioned Hannavanni to her, and she has asked that I bring her back to the palace to foresee what her child is and the future for them."

They immediately went into exclamations of joy and blessing. Amid the questions of, "How many months?" and "Does His Majesty know yet?" ("Four months." "Of course he does."), Seteta watched as Ameen snuck away from his window spot and out into the early evening air. When he glanced back furtively, she looked away and pretended not to have seen him.

* * *

"Well, we know who _isn't _the father."

From her place on the floor where she had sat for the duration of Ameen's report, Hasina countered Bakura's statement with, "But who is?"

"I couldn't hazard a guess. But I bet gold exchanged hands."

"Between who?" Paru questioned darkly. "Ata and the father, or Ata and an executioner?"

For a while, nobody said anything. The only sound was that of Pepi feeding from his mother's breast. That _was_ a good question. Would the queen have paid her new lover for his silence, or would she have gone as far as to have him killed? It didn't seem likely that she would stoop as low as murder … but it was hard to tell anything about Ata.

Finally, Bakura snorted. "Whatever happened, I pity the guy. But this is good for us, isn't it?" He directed his question to his wife. "If Ata has a kid of her own, then we can take back our own. It's not like she'll need him anymore."

"She didn't really need him in the first place."

"I thought Akefia was going to be the new Pharaoh, unless the bitch got her own."

Hasina laughed softly. "I'm sorry Bakura, but I don't think our baby was good enough for the throne of Egypt."

"Damn it." Bakura motioned for her to sit on his lap. The girl perched on his knee, her braid unraveling and flowing down her back like a waterfall. She locked eyes with the thief, the intensity of red and blue mixing in the air between them.

"This is our chance," Bakura said forcefully. "Give it a year or two and she'll be too busy making her son ready for the throne to pay attention to Akefia. That's when we get him. Can you wait two years, pretty girl?"

Hasina nodded silently and leaned in to kiss him.

The two of them were oblivious to their surroundings, lost in each other and the hope of the future. Paru, Merit, and Ameen watched on. Though no one said a word, they were all thinking the same thing.  
_  
What happens if Ata kills her nephew? _None of them liked the idea of waiting for the queen of Egypt.

* * *

**A/N: 1) When I started writing this, it had been the holidays. By the time I finished, it was way past the holidays. Merry holidays and happy New Year!  
2) I don't recall ever describing Ameen before, but if I did (and you remember what the description was), please tell me and I'll change it.  
3) THERE! If you caught it, I now have tied up the loose end of, "How come Bakura's different and called a demon, but his son inherits his looks." No more complaining. … And not to worry, I will get into that story in a little bit.  
4) Life has officially barreled its way into my schedule, so I probably won't have time to write for a while. Don't expect another update in a long time :( But don't give up hope on me, either!  
That being said, you might want to read something while waiting for an update from me, so I highly suggest reading the stories that belong to RedShadowThief, if you haven't already. They are wonderfully written and quite easy to get immersed in.**

**Okay, here's my chapter, Red. I await your epilogue.**


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